


Something Else When I See You

by emj1s



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, D/s undertones, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Humiliation, M/M, Shrunkyclunks, Top Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:48:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24853339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emj1s/pseuds/emj1s
Summary: He remembers this photo being taken. It was after round one but shortly before round two, with Bucky teasing and laughing and exhausted, taking his time in Steve’s arms and letting Steve murmur sweetly in his ear until he was ready to let Steve have him again. There’s a faint shadow of a hickey on the slope of Bucky’s throat, and suddenly all Steve wants is to be home so he can find that very spot again and sink his teeth in, high on Bucky’s neck, and pull a delighted moan from his boyfriend.He’s grinning like an idiot at his phone by this point, and absently, he slides his thumb slightly on the screen, just enough to pull up the caption and the comments section.Happy father's day to the only man I've ever called Daddy.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 38
Kudos: 417





	Something Else When I See You

Steve's in a meeting when it's posted.

It's a long, boring strategy meeting, and they've broken for a recess, Sam groaning in the chair next to him. Others get up to shuffle around, Tony standing to loudly complain about the layout of the room and the amount of files and folders involved, and Steve pulls out his phone when he sees a blinking light letting him know he’s missed a few notifications.   
He swipes away the emails, saves the tweets for later, and one from Instagram catches his eye.

_ BuckMeBarnes posted for the first time in a while. _

Steve grins a bit, tapping the notification to pull up the post, and his smile widens.

It's a picture of them, with Steve's face carefully cropped out. 

They're naked, not that you can tell with the edge of the sheet draped artfully at the bottom of the frame, just below Bucky's bare chest but leaving Steve's whole torso exposed. Bucky's smiling, his head resting on Steve's chest and angled up to look into his eyes, obvious even without Steve's head being visible. His left arm is stretched up, holding the phone to take the picture, with his right curled somewhere between them in the minuscule space they’re allowed with Steve’s arm holding Bucky so very close. 

Bucky's put a pretty black and white filter over the whole thing, softening the edges into something almost dream-like, and Steve's heart squeezes in his chest. It’s a beautiful picture, and he thinks it might just be his favorite of them he’s seen.

God, but he’s a lucky man, he muses, eyes tracing the lines of Bucky. He takes in the sharp, defined curve of his jaw, the errant curls wildly poking this way and that. He remembers this photo being taken. It was after round one but shortly before round two, with Bucky teasing and laughing and exhausted, taking his time in Steve’s arms and letting Steve murmur sweetly in his ear until he was ready to let Steve have him again. There’s a faint shadow of a hickey on the slope of Bucky’s throat, and suddenly all Steve wants is to be home so he can find that very spot again and sink his teeth in, high on Bucky’s neck, and pull a delighted moan from his boyfriend. 

He’s grinning like an idiot at his phone by this point, and absently, he slides his thumb slightly on the screen, just enough to pull up the caption and the comments section.

_ Happy father's day to the only man I've ever called Daddy. _

He chokes on nothing for a moment, just staring at the words, feeling his whole face go red. 

That can’t - Bucky  _ didn’t-- _

But he  _ did, _ Steve realizes, staring down at his phone. That little  _ shit, _ he thinks, blinking like if he wills it hard enough, the words will change. The sudden gust of air he lets out reminds him that he hasn’t breathed in - minutes? He isn’t sure - and catches Sam’s attention.

“You okay man?” Sam asks, and Steve’s head snaps up to see Sam staring at him in confusion and concern. His hand immediately slams his phone into his chest to keep Sam from seeing the screen.

“Nothing!” He says instantly, then shakes his head hard. “I mean - yeah! Yeah, I’m good, I’m--” He swallows. “I’m gonna stretch my legs,” he decides on, abruptly standing and leaving Sam watching his back retreat with a befuddled expression. Steve doesn’t take the time to take in the look, though, instead hightailing it out the door and into the relative privacy of the empty hallway waiting outside.

After a breath or two, he pulls his phone cautiously away from his chest again. A quick slide of his fingerprint unlocks the now-black screen, and sure enough, it’s waiting there for him. Bucky’s pretty, besotted smile with the word  _ Daddy _ poised immediately beneath. 

“Jesus Christ,” he mumbles under his breath, and taps the little arrow under the photo to pull up the direct messages. 

_ Really? _ He types, then taps the blue ‘send’ next to Bucky’s username. It’s only a moment before he gets a reply back; three winking faces in a row. 

_ I cannot believe you. _ Steve sends, trying to channel disapproval into the four little words, but knowing Bucky, even if it translates it won’t have a single effect.

He’s proven right when Bucky’s only reply is three hearteyes faces.

_ Are you only going to reply using emojis. _

When three eggplants are his response, Steve nearly gives up right then, but his phone quickly buzzes with another notification.

**_Okay, okay, I’m done._ **

**_I thought it was a good photo! Your abs look particularly abtastic._ **

_ You know it’s not the photo I’m talking about. _

**_I have no idea what you mean._ **

Steve pauses for a moment, pushing his tongue into the inside of his cheek as he thinks. He weighs his options, glances at the time, then comes to a decision. 

_ I think you know exactly what I mean, baby boy. _

There’s a pause. Three dots appear and then disappear, pop up again and then drop, before finally - 

**_You know you love it, Daddy._ ** Steve licks his lips, feeling heat swoop in his stomach. It’s not like Bucky’s wrong - and that’s part of the problem. It’s no secret that Bucky has Steve absolutely, totally, completely fucking whipped. A bat of those ridiculous lashes and a little breathy  _ daddy _ is all Bucky needs - it’s like it flips a fucking switch in Steve, makes him go from a put together, competent adult to an idiot who only wants to get his dick in Bucky. 

And, judging from the tightness in his pants, it turns out that the eyelashes aren’t even required. Steve takes a deep breath before he replies.

_ You’re rotten, you know that?  _

**_I’m well aware._ **

**_You gonna do somethin about it, old man?_ **

_ I’m gonna do something alright. _

_ I’ll be home in an hour. Maybe less. You done with class yet? _

**_Just got out. Does that mean I should hurry home?_ **

_ It means you better be waiting for me when I walk in. _

**_Sir yes sir._ **

**_Oh, sorry._ **

**_Captain yes Captain._ **

**_Is this working for you?_ **

_ I hate you. _

When his response is a kissing, winking face, Steve just shakes his head with a wry twist to his lips before locking his phone again and slipping back into the conference room. If he avoids Sam’s eyes entirely, that’s his own business.

As promised, it’s not long after that they’re dismissed, and Steve waves off the small talk the team attempts to pull him into. He says his goodbyes and slips his way out of the room, hurrying to the elevator and then the parking garage. His Harley is right where he left it, and he swings a leg over and kicks up the kickstand, turning the key in the ignition.

The ride to their apartment is longer than he’d like it to be. Working in Manhattan and living in Brooklyn isn’t ideal, especially with the odd work hours Steve tends to keep, but the downright offended expression that Bucky had pulled when Steve had absently suggested getting a place closer to the tower had put a quick end to that discussion. He should have known better than to try to separate Bucky and Winifred Barnes by more than a few blocks; pulling that boy from his mother and sisters would always be impossible.

The traffic means it’s dusk by the time he roars down their street, the familiar apartment building coming into view. He pulls around to the backside, slowing down and dropping his feet to walk his bike into the parking spot closest to the stairs, and there he is; seated on the balcony of their third-floor apartment is a smiling Bucky Barnes. Steve’s heart does a funny flip in his chest as he watches Bucky stand, coming to lean against the railing.

“Evenin’, Soldier,” he calls, weight on his forearms, metal crossed beneath flesh. Steve switches the bike off and climbs off, grinning up at him and reaching up to tip an imaginary cap.

“Hey sugar,” he calls back, “you rationed?” Bucky tosses his head back with a laugh, and Steve can't see the shine of his eyes from here, but he can picture it clear as day.

"Why don't you come up here and we can chat about it?" Bucky says, and Steve obeys, heading in the building and up the stairs.

He enters the apartment as Bucky is sliding the balcony door closed. He looks up and smiles, and Steve feels his face do something funny, a fond expression taking over his features.

"What did I tell you about riding without a helmet, huh?" Bucky asks, striding across the floor to him, and Steve catches him around the waist with a roll of his eyes. "Don't you roll your eyes at me. Your thick head is only metaphorical, dumbass, and that serum isn't gonna keep it from cracking on some pavement."

"What a lovely image," Steve says dryly as Bucky pokes him in the forehead.

"It'll be like an egg, Rogers--"

"Buck, c'mon--"

"--cracked right open, and then where will I be, huh? You ever think about that?"

"Think about you all the time, sugar," Steve drawls, and he watches as Bucky's cheeks go pink.

"Ain't talkin' about that," he murmurs, and Steve hums, leaning forward to steal a kiss, lingering and deep.

“I see how it is,” Steve muses when their lips part, a metal hand having slid up at some point to gently rest on the side of his neck. “You’ll talk about  _ that _ on Insta all day but as soon as I get home, you go all shy.” 

“Oooh,  _ Insta,” _ Bucky teases, his cheeks only going redder. Steve leans in, pressing a kiss to Bucky’s jaw, sliding down towards his neck. He finds that spot that he’s so fond of, and he revels in the soft moan that spills from Bucky when he sinks his teeth into that soft skin. “Look who’s catching up with the lingo,” he continues, if a little breathy, and Steve slides a hand up Bucky’s back and gets a grip on the hair on the back of Bucky’s head, giving it a sharp tug that makes Bucky’s head fall back and his mouth drop open with a sudden gasp.

“And look who’s got nothin’ but sass for me,” he muses, mouth still on the now stretched outline of Bucky’s neck. “And here I thought I was comin’ home to my sweet boy.” Bucky whines, his hands roaming, finding Steve’s shirt and curling tight in the thin fabric. Steve can feel the vibration of the sound buzzing against his lips. “What do you say, honey?” he coaxes, giving Bucky a gentle little shake that makes him cling even tighter as he lifts his head to look into hooded blue eyes.

“‘M sorry, Daddy,” Bucky says, sweet as candy, and something hot curls low in Steve’s stomach.

“Aw, baby,” he murmurs, leaning in to get his teeth in his jaw, kissing along the soft expanse of skin, nipping at the cleft in his chin, “‘s okay. Just need a firmer hand sometimes, huh?”

He can see the effect his words have on Bucky. His eyes go bright and a little unfocused, pink lips parting and brows drawing together. He nods wordlessly, and Steve mirrors the motion condescendingly. “Yeah,” he murmurs, eyes searching Bucky’s face. 

Steve’s been absently hard since he saw that damn photo with its troublemaking caption that landed them here in the first place, but now that he can see the look on Bucky’s face, has his warm body pressed to his, it’s a little harder to ignore. He tugs Bucky in closer, and he can’t help it when he sees a candy pink tongue dart out to wet his lips; he kisses him again, hard and claiming, groaning softly into the soft give of Bucky’s mouth. When he pulls away, Bucky’s lips are red and swollen, and he’s panting softly. “You oughta apologize properly though, sweetheart,” he tells him, voice low and a little rough. “Got me all hard in a work meeting and then I get home and you’re just gonna give me lip?” He can see the way Bucky’s face falls and he reaches up, cupping his cheek with a large palm. He traces one of those ridiculous cheekbones with his thumb and tsks gently. “Don’t worry, you’re gonna make it up to me,” he tells him, eyes flicking back down to his lips. “Get on your knees.”

Bucky obeys quick enough to blur, dropping down in front of Steve and tilting his head to keep their eyes locked. Steve feels the corner of his lips twitch up in an approving smile. He reaches down, pushing his fingers through Bucky’s thick hair just to see the way his eyes flutter at the gentle touch. 

“There we go,” he mumbles absently, and then drags his hand down, thumbing at Bucky’s full lower lip. He tugs it down, and Bucky’s jaw follows the motion, dropping open and letting the tip of his tongue brush against Steve’s thumb. It’s a gentle invitation, one that Steve takes, slipping the digit over Bucky’s tongue and into the wet, warm space of his mouth. Full lips close and his mouth sucks, and Steve can barely hold back a groan. Bucky raises his hands to grip at Steve’s waistband, but Steve gives a disapproving shake of his head. 

“No hands, baby,” he tells him, and Bucky’s brows draw together. Gently, Steve eases his thumb from Bucky’s mouth, wiping it over his cheek and smearing spit on his skin. Bucky licks over his lips. “You’re gonna be good for Daddy, right?” Bucky nods. “Then hands behind your back.” 

Bucky’s quick to comply, right hand gripping the metal of his left wrist behind his back, and he sits a little straighter with the motion, keeping his balance. Steve takes a half step closer, and now Bucky’s craning his neck to keep his eyes on him. He reaches for his own belt buckle, the metal clinking in front of Bucky’s face as he undoes it. Grey-blue eyes dart down and then back up, unsure of where to look, and Steve doesn’t help him - he just undoes his jeans, pulling the zipper down slow and watching Bucky’s eyes follow its path. 

It's quick work to get his cock free, tucking the waistband of his boxers beneath his balls. He grips his cock and strokes it a few times, then lifts it.

“Suck ‘em,” he tells Bucky, and Bucky leans in obediently, nuzzling at Steve’s balls and humming softly. He kisses the soft skin, left and then right, slow and gentle, swirls his tongue over it, and Steve’s about to tell him to get on with it regardless of how good the gentle pressure feels when Bucky opens his mouth and sucks one ball into the hot space. He mouths at it gently, tongue rubbing, so careful, lips pulling the smallest bit, and Steve sighs in satisfaction as he gazes down at Bucky.

He looks so damn sweet like this, pulling off one ball to switch to the other, moaning softly and pulling a groan from Steve at the vibration. Steve strokes his own cock, letting Bucky tease and lick and suck at his balls until the sensation starts to get overwhelming. Then his free hand slips back into Bucky’s curls and tugs him away a little rough. “That’s enough, baby. I know you love tastin’ Daddy, but I’ve got something else I need you to put in that needy mouth.” 

The sound that leaves Bucky at Steve’s words is nearly sad, but when Steve searches his face all he finds is a needy light in his eyes and an open mouth, tongue resting on his full lower lip. It’s an invitation if Steve has ever seen one, and he gladly takes it, hand wrapping around the base of his cock and slapping the head against that pink tongue. Bucky’s face goes bright red at the motion, but he doesn’t move, stays put like a good boy as Steve guides his cock into his mouth. 

Steve doesn’t give him a moment, doesn’t go slow; it’s one firm, steady push, and Bucky’s throat twitches around him, his head jerking, but there’s nowhere to go as Steve makes space for himself, working past the natural resistance until he’s got Bucky’s nose against the curls at the base of his dick, choking, struggling sounds muffled around his Daddy’s cock. Steve lets his head tip back with a satisfied groan. 

“That’s it, that’s a good boy,” he praises, and he starts to rock his hips, barely pulling out before pulling Bucky back down to meet his thrusts. His grip in Bucky’s hair is hard and inescapable, not that Bucky is trying; for all he struggles to take Steve sometimes, he loves this, and Steve knows it. He could have told Bucky to beg for it and his baby would have worked himself near tears until he’d gotten his little throat stuffed full, would fuck his own mouth with Steve’s cock if it made his Daddy happy. And it has, but right now he wants it just like this - pulling Bucky’s hot mouth down around his dick and forcing him to choke and gag on it.

Steve revels in the pleasure, in the slick slide of his cock in and out of Bucky’s mouth. He opens his eyes and looks down, watching spit escape from the corners of Bucky’s lips where he can’t help it, focused more on not choking than any finesse. Steve likes it when its messy, when Bucky’s crying and drooling, face a mess, and when Steve abruptly pulls him off, he heaves in a desperate gasp of air and coughs a few times, panting, his chest heaving.

“Okay, baby boy?” Steve asks, gripping Bucky’s chin and yanking his face up. His skin’s gone splotchy and red, but he’s still looking up at Steve with that devoted expression on his face. He nods clumsily.

“Yeah, Daddy,” he says, voice rough, and his gaze drops, fixing on Steve’s cock. Steve grips it once again and shifts so he can smack it against Bucky’s cheek. If possible the skin goes even redder, and Bucky squirms on his knees, whining open-mouthed. “Can I have it back?” he asks, and Steve hums like he’s got to think about it. He rocks his hips, rubbing his cock along Bucky’s face, and Bucky’s eyes roll back before falling closed. “Please? Please can I suck your cock, Daddy?” And God, what a good fucking boy he is; Steve doesn’t have to ask him to beg, doesn’t even have to suggest he wants him to. Bucky wants it bad enough that he’ll beg on his own.

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Steve teases, and places his cock on Bucky’s lower lip. “Take it, baby,” he murmurs, and Bucky moans, then does just that.

He keeps his hands behind his back, but he slides down Steve’s cock, fast and desperate. He chokes himself again, over and over, takes Steve as deep as he can and twists his tongue, traces the veins and lines of his dick until Steve is cursing sharply. 

“Oh, good boy,” Steve moans. He’s a goddamn motormouth when he’s feeling good, and now is no exception. “Good fuckin’ boy, that’s it, choke yourself on it, take it all the way in that tight little throat, so pretty when you choke on Daddy’s cock - you’re gonna make me come, sweet boy, is that what you want? Huh? You want Daddy to come in your mouth, down your throat, make you take it? I’ll fuck you after, sweetheart, you know I’m good for more than one round--” 

The sound Bucky makes around Steve’s cock is desperate, tears through the heart of him, and Steve fists his hand in Bucky’s hair and  _ shoves  _ himself all the way down his throat, comes hard and sudden. Bucky jerks in his hold, but he takes it, and as soon as Steve manages to loosen his fingers he pulls back, gasping for breath. 

“Get up,” Steve demands, and he doesn’t wait for Bucky to listen. He grabs Bucky by the arms and hauls him off the floor. Bucky struggles to get his feet under himself, but that’s okay; Steve’s more than capable of holding his weight, slim and lithe and perfect to be manhandled. One arm wraps around Bucky’s waist, other hand grabbing his jaw and pulling him into a claiming kiss, pressing his lips to his rough and dirty. The serum is a blessing and a curse, he muses, because while one orgasm has taken the edge off, he’s still just as hard as he’d been moments ago, and he leads Bucky to the couch, making him stumble backwards. 

“Daddy,” Bucky croaks, voice wrecked, doe-eyed and a little clingy, and Steve comes to a stop when Bucky’s lower back presses to the arm of the couch. Steve leans in, kissing Bucky again, biting at his lower lip and tugging at it.

“I got you, baby,” he says against his mouth, and he reaches down, palming Bucky’s hard cock through his jeans. Bucky gasps, hips twitching, and Steve smiles against his mouth. “Turn around,” he says, and he doesn’t wait to be obeyed; he grips Bucky’s hips and gently guides him. Steve places a hand between his shoulder blades, giving a gentle push until Bucky gets the memo and bends at the waist. His arms come forward, palms to the cushions, and he relaxes into it, letting Steve kick his feet wider. 

“Daddy?” he says again, and Steve hums, leaning down and kissing his back where his shirt has ridden up and exposed his pale skin. 

“Hush,” he tells him gently. He slides his hands beneath Bucky’s hips and undoes his jeans, yanking them roughly down. He crouches and frees Bucky of the offending article, and then his tight briefs follow suit. He drags his hands down the curve of Bucky’s sides, grabs his hips, and pulls him flush back, hard cock nudging his ass and making Bucky groan. “Were you a good boy while Daddy was gone?” he asks, “Or were you a naughty little boy and played with this pretty hole?” He grabs Bucky’s cheeks and spreads them, exposing the tight pink hole between them and rubbing his cock against it.

“No, Daddy,” Bucky moans, and rocks back against him. “Daddy I was good, didn’t touch, didn’t touch what’s yours.” And that sparks that possessive heat deep in Steve, makes him growl and squeeze Bucky’s hips tight enough to bruise.

“Oh, good boy,” he praises. “Didn’t touch Daddy’s sweet hole, huh? Left it all tight for Daddy to work open?”

“Yeah,” Bucky gasps, head hanging as he pants through the almost overwhelming sensations. Steve feels him twitch in his grip, but keeps his hips high, doesn’t let him rub his cock against the arm of the couch like he so clearly wants to. “‘S yours, Daddy, didn’t - didn’t play with that’s yours. Didn’t touch myself, didn’t - not even my cock, Daddy, I was good, was so good for you--”

“Yeah,” Steve cuts him off, smiling, “cause you’re Daddy’s good boy,” he tells him, and he stretches his arm out to the end table, yanking the drawer open. Bucky had called him a horndog when he’d dropped the little bottle of lube into this particular hiding spot, but Steve notices that he doesn’t seem inclined to give him grief about it now. In fact the sound of the cap flicking open has him squirming, shifting on his feet, knees twitching, and Steve laughs softly. 

“Eager,” he muses, and Bucky whines. “‘S cute, baby boy. Real cute.” 

“Be cuter if you stuck it in me,” Bucky grumbles, and Steve snorts a laugh. 

“That what you want?” he asks, nudging the head of his cock against Bucky’s hole. “I guess I could just fuck into you, but I’m not sure you’d thank me for it. I like you cryin’ on my cock cause I made you feel  _ good,  _ sweetheart.”   
“Then get to makin’ me feel good!” Bucky whines, and Steve brings his hand down sharply on the curve of his ass. Bucky kicks instinctively, whimpering.

“What do you say?” Steve says, rough, and Bucky moans, burying his face in the couch cushion. He heaves a few desperate pants, but as soon as he feels Steve’s hand leave his ass as if to crack down in another spank, he finds his voice.

“Sorry!” he spits out,” Daddy, Daddy ‘m sorry, I’ll be good, I’m good,” he begs, “please, just - fingers, put your fingers in me, please? Open me up for that big cock, Daddy, gimme it,  _ please." _

“Much better,” Steve praises, and he pours lube on his fingers, rubbing them together for a moment before smearing his thumb over Bucky’s hole. Bucky sighs softly, and as Steve rubs, tension starts to melt out of Bucky’s shoulders. Steve gives him just a moment to calm before sliding his finger into his hole, listening to the high moan that Bucky tries to muffle against the cushions.

Steve lets him try to quiet himself, knows Bucky sometimes gets embarrassed by how loud he gets, but once he’s got three thick fingers buried in that tight little hole, Bucky’s clearly forgotten about silly things like shame and embarrassment. He’s moaning loud enough to alert the neighbors, and Steve encourages it, curling his fingers and digging mercilessly into his prostate.

“Daddy!” Bucky shouts, voice cracking, hips shoving back towards his touch. “Daddy,  _ please, _ please just - fuck me, Daddy, fuck me I need it, need your cock please Daddy gimme your cock  _ Daddypleasefuckme--” _

Steve’s got his fingers out and his cock inside Bucky in seconds, and Bucky screams loud enough to bring the damn apartment down when Steve shoves fully inside him with one harsh thrust. He shakes beneath Steve. “That’s what you asked for sweet boy,” Steve grunts out, trying his hardest to not grip Bucky too tight, “asked for Daddy to give you his cock, now you’re gonna - fuckin’- take it.” He thrusts with each word, driving his cock into Bucky, and Bucky’s arms go out, cheek pressing to the couch cushion and fingers scrambling for a grip.

The pace Steve sets is merciless, slamming into Bucky and dragging him back to meet him, grunting and moaning as he buries his cock in Bucky. There’s not much Bucky can do but lie there and take it, but he does it beautifully; bears down on the intrusion of Steve carving space in his body, eyes rolling back, and Christ Steve’s pretty sure his baby is drooling on the couch. He’s fucking beautiful is all Steve can think as he leans over, clothed body surrounding Bucky’s mostly-naked form. 

“Good boy,” he moans into Bucky’s ear, gripping his hair and shoving him harder into the couch. Bucky screams with it, sobbing in pleasure, and there’s little in the world Steve loves like the sight of Bucky lost like this. He’s crying, fat tears trailing down his cheeks to soak into the wet stain on the cushion, and he hears a loud, sharp  _ rip _ when Bucky’s metal fingers puncture through the upholstery and tear right down it. Steve laughs delightedly.

“Oh, sweetheart, that’s it, take it so damn good, take me so good, such a good little bitch,” he growls, lips pressed to Bucky’s sweaty temple. He’s not sure if Bucky can even understand him, but it doesn’t matter; he’s not sure what’s coming out of his mouth, anyway. He keeps running it though, praise and degradation in equal measure.

“You fuckin’ love it, don’t you baby? Yeah, don’t gotta fuckin’ tell me, I can see it all over your pretty face,” he pants, slamming his hips into Bucky’s, holding him down to the couch. Bucky makes a sound that might be a shout in agreement, but Steve’s not paying much attention; Bucky’s going tight around him in that way that says he’s getting close, and Steve growls against his ear.

“You gonna come for Daddy, baby?” he breathes, and Bucky gives a high, agreeing sound. “Gonna come without a single fuckin’ touch to your pretty little cock? Gonna be Daddy’s good boy?”

_ “Yes!” _ Bucky sobs, and Steve shifts, biting a lurid hickey into the side of Bucky’s throat and making him jerk roughly. 

“Then do it.  _ Come.” _

The sound that leaves Bucky is rough and loud, scraping its way out of his throat as he shakes with it, body going taut around Steve as he spends against the couch arm. Steve groans at the feeling, gripping Bucky as he trembles, and he hauls him up to his feet.

Bucky’s weak-kneed and lax, and Steve wraps an arm around his waist, holding him up against his chest. Bucky’s head falls, rolling against Steve’s shoulder, and Steve turns, tucking his nose into Bucky’s hair and breathing him in. 

“Good boy,” he growls into Bucky’s temple, “that’s it, so fuckin’ gorgeous when you come baby boy, so fuckin’ good, let Daddy have you, just a little longer.” His thrusts turn to grinds, seated deep in Bucky, and it’s a weak, breathless sound from Bucky that tips him over the edge.

One last whispered, needy, “Daddy…” and Steve moans loudly, thrusting harshly once more before stilling in Bucky and coming hard. He shudders with it, squeezes Bucky, and has to shift his weight to keep from keeling right over with the smaller man in his arms. 

They stay like that for a few moments, panting together, before Steve starts to press soft, gentle kisses to the side of Bucky’s face. Bucky hums, lips twitching into an exhausted smile. 

“C’mon,” Steve says softly, and murmurs soft apologies as he slips from Bucky’s body as gently as he can. A trail of come follows, slow and lazy down the inside of Bucky’s thigh, and Steve stares at it for a moment, seriously debating bending Bucky over, spreading him open and--

“Don’t even think about it,” comes Bucky’s exhausted reprimand, “not all of us are super soldiers with no refractory period, Rogers.” Steve laughs.

“Oh, baby, I’m sorry,” he teases, “was that too much? I thought you wanted it, but maybe all that begging meant the opposite--”

“Oh my God, I  _ hate _ you,” Bucky whines, and Steve just grins, rubbing his hands up and down Bucky’s sides.

“C’mon, sweet thing,” he murmurs with a soft kiss to Bucky’s temple. Bucky looks two seconds from falling flat on his face asleep, and so Steve gently guides him to their bedroom. He gives him the gentlest of pushes until Bucky lands on their bed, face mushed into a pillow.

It’s quick work to get a wet washcloth, cleaning himself up in the bathroom before walking to the bed. He pulls Bucky’s sweaty shirt from his back and tosses it away, then brings the washcloth down, wiping the sweat from Bucky’s skin. He cleans his shoulders, down his right arm, kisses his palm when he reaches it. He gives the metal arm a gentle wipedown too, paying equal attention everywhere, listening to Bucky’s quiet, pleased hums as he dozes through it all. 

He murmurs soft apologies to the back of Bucky’s neck when he coaxes his legs apart and cleans him there, kissing at the soft buzz of his hairline at the base of his skull, and when he tosses the washcloth away, the first thing he does is bundle Bucky up in his arms before pulling the light sheet over the both of them.

Steve sighs, melting into the mattress, and he trails his fingertips up and down Bucky’s spine when the man rolls to his chest. His cheek is pillowed on Steve’s pec, his curly hair in disarray, and when he blinks open his eyes, it's with that pretty, besotted smile that Steve loves oh so very much.

“Hey,” Bucky murmurs, and Steve tilts his head to look at him, humming in question.

“Hm?” he murmurs, pushing Bucky’s hair off his forehead. Bucky’s smile goes impish.

“Happy Father’s Day.” 

Steve groans, and smacks him with the nearest pillow. Bucky laughs, loud and happy, eyes crinkling, and Steve can’t help but follow suit. 

He wraps his arms around Bucky and twists them, listening to the joy-filled squeal that leaves the smaller man as he pulls him under him. He smiles at him, then leans down and kisses him sweetly, lingering on his lips. 

“You’re a nightmare, y’know that?” he tells him. “I saw that post in a  _ meeting. _ Sam saw me see it. I had to run to avoid an interrogation.” Bucky snorts. 

“Sam’s heard worse,” he dismisses, and Steve huffs, but it’s not like Bucky’s wrong.

“You get way too much joy out of torturing me,” he chastises, meaning absolutely none of it. Bucky just gives him a knowing smile and pulls him down for another slow, deep kiss.

“You love me,” he murmurs into it, and Steve sighs happily. 

“God help me, I do,” he agrees fondly. He shifts then, pulls Bucky back into his arms, watches as those pretty blue eyes flutter closed. He kisses Bucky’s forehead, and it’s only moments before Bucky’s breathing changes, face smoothing out, looking young and innocent as he falls asleep. 

There’s not a thing in the world Steve wouldn’t do for this man, he thinks absently, his own eyes getting heavy. He supposes being called Daddy on social media should be, and is, the least of his worries. 

Besides, he’d let Bucky call him anything he wanted - so long as he gets to keep calling Bucky his.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Father's Day I offer you daddy kink and even more modern Bucky and Cap Steve. But this time in yet another AU. 
> 
> Not betaed, so all mistakes are my own. If I missed a tag please let me know! Comments and kudos are always appreciated! Come talk to me on [twitter](HTTP://www.twitter.com/emj1s) and [tumblr!](HTTP://www.emj1s.tumblr.com)


End file.
